La Guitarrista
by Dancing Lunar Wolves
Summary: A new hero has arisen, determined to cleanse the streets of Zootopia and provide fearless sleep to all mammals. Their sense of duty drives fear into the hearts of all criminals that dare cross paths with them. Bearing an unusual weapon, and uncanny friends, the streets of the city will resonate with peace and harmony. The musician has arrived. The Guitarist: La Guitarrista.
1. Overture

Hey all, DLW here with a new story along with co-authorsHawner, Senestran, and Readerno31142! Just in time for Cinco de Mayo! A complete collab of awesome proportions! Important info about this at the bottom. Thank you to all our readers, follows, fav's and reviews and for your feedback, it makes writing all the more fun. Disclaimer: Zootopia and its characters are copyright, Disney.

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La Guitarrista

Chapter 1

[Overture]

* * *

The echo of rhythmic strides and hums of musical enthusiasm filled the whitewashed hallway as the doe made her way onto the performance. She wouldn't dare be late for her own show, not this time, and most certainly not for _this_ song.

She even managed to wax her horns early just to be sure she would be right on time.

Upon entering a more cluttered area - mammals busying themselves with various activities and shouting orders - a modest smile plastered itself on the bridge of her muzzle. A smile that went back in time to the most cherished moments of her life. Every hum and note was a page reminiscent of a promise that she would sing the crowds today.

Every line and lyric of the soon to be concert ran through her memories and sang itself silently in her ears. So much so was she enraptured with the tune that she began to lose focus, her head bobbing to the notes with her hips beginning to sway.

In moments, the hall was filled with a different tune other than her walking; the sound of her music rang for anyone who could hear. And while there was so much life to the song, there was one part that she always loved, one special verse that the doe always found to be the most meaningful and awe-inspiring part.

It was at times like this that the artist would always lose herself in: the heart of the song itself. And while every song had a heart of some kind, this was her heart for all to see.

So she paid no heed to the chatter and activity around her. Anything and everything was zoned out. From the pair of bulls carrying a glass pane - which she almost waltzed into while they expertly maneuvered around her - to the numerous coffee spills that she would have to apologize for and certainly pay for later (she was up to 5 or 6 now) she was lost to the song completely.

With her hooves having a mind of their own, she tapped them against the ground to the beat only she could hear. Her stellar crimson dress, now studded with gold for the show, fluttered, dazzled, and gleamed with each step she took. The gold bracelets she wore glinted with each wave of her arms. Even the heels she wore shimmered with a crimson, golden lined trim that she picked out herself just for the occasion.

Finally, something to piece together her whole ensemble, a simple necklace with a gold and silver pendant loosely clung to her. Both colours swirled around each other in an intimate dance and display while being on separate sides of the same whole.

None could break her away from the feeling, the allure and adoration of the meaning that the song had. It filled her thoughts, took hold of her every motion and breath. Her heart skipped a beat when she heard a voice unlike the duet she would sing.

 _"Bengala! You only have three minutes to get to stage! You can't be late this time because you almost danced your way out to the parking lot again!"_

The voice that hissed through her headset wasn't... unpleasant (per se) just mildly annoying. It was the voice of her manager, the mammal behind the scenes that set up the concert for her to perform at.

In a matter of seconds, she was brought from the high heavens... back down to earth. It wasn't what she wanted, but he was right; she couldn't dance her way out, hip-check a car, and then run back in late after the alarm startles her. The does amber gold eyes fluttered as if waking from sleep to see the many raised brows of stagehands and other mammals going about their way with last second details to ensure that everything went smoothly. Some she saw murmuring, and others merely shrugged at her and moved on.

Taking it all into account, she sighed and walked forward. _Does he know how much I love this song?_ mused Gazelle, adjusting the headpiece reluctantly.

By the time she finished fixing the thing - despite it being said to be universal, it still somehow _always_ managed to either wrap around her horns, or fall away from her ears - she found a good excuse, "Yeah, yeah, I was just practicing the routine."

And she was... sort of. She had the routine down to a 't', and the song she could sing in her sleep; which she had been told that she did do once. So there was no mistake, she was ready.

A few other mammals passed by her, giving her a quick cheer or thumbs up that she gracefully returned before the mic hissed again. _"By almost ruining the set again? I can't afford to have another suit because ya' danced under a ladder!"_

If her ears weren't on fire from embarrassment, they were now. She couldn't tell how many times she had zoned off before a show, only to be told that she: spilled someone's drink, stepped on one too many hooves, walked into the tech guy to cause a camera failure... caused a blackout with her horns and some loose wire. The list horror stories went on, but she always had a way of dealing with her manager.

She could almost hear him begin to say something more when she made it to a far door that lead under the stage. "Oh sor- ca- hear- tunnel-" she mocked, placing a hoof dramatically on the headpiece to cut it off before heading downstairs.

Gabrizella Bengala (known to most as Gazelle) hastened her stride as she skipped down the flight of plush red-carpeted steps. Having been here plenty of times before, she knew exactly where to go by sheer memory.

 _Straight, second left, third door to avoid the electrical closet unlike that one time, wave to Jerry, go down the hall and jump on the elevator._

And follow her instruction she did exactly... well, _almost_ exactly. _They really need to put a label on that closet, those wires are dangerous._

Still, despite her mishaps, she made it to the short stretch of decorated hallway that lead to what most could see as a lift of sorts. Most of the walls were adorned with either some form of art or a mirror, and she took one last look at herself in a full bodied one that she usually took to and smiled before heading on.

 _Showtime._

Situated near it were two mammals that nodded in her direction. The one closest to her, a stout Capybara holding a tablet and wearing a striped uniform. He didn't look up from his work as he busied himself murmuring things that must've been on his checklist.

The doe spread her arms and waved theatrically. "Jerry! How are you?"

Startled, Jerry looked up from his work and saw her, waving back as he pointed to the elevator.

"I-i'm alright Zel," he replied, frantically typing on the pad before breathing a sigh. "Lift's all set for you and Tom. I had to chase him down because like you, he takes _way_ too long to get setup. So now you both only have about a minute before it starts rising. But everything's set and he has your guitar."

Gazelle nodded cheerfully and strolled into the spacious elevator shaft with the second of the two mammals that awaited her, a tall striped tiger. He held two acoustic guitars - one of which was her size, shimmered from the reflective waxing - and was clad from head to paw pads in a blue tuxedo lined with silver.

A smirk slowly drew on her muzzle once more. _After all this time._

The second she was securely in the lift, the doors started to slowly close, but not before the capybara gave them one last encouraging shout, "Knock em out you two!"

When the doors shut, she finally drew in a breath she didn't know she was waiting for. Now alone with the tiger, she finally had a moment to think before the show.

Now while some would genuinely be terrified of being alone in a small, confined space with a tiger, Gazelle was actually quite comfortable. She had worked with many predators over the years and it wasn't that species mattered to her, she always saw the best in anyone despite their differences.

It had been some time since her last full concert - usually small gigs here and there plus charity events every so often - and this show would make all the difference. They were the few times that she not only had to sing for what could be hours but also tried to take small breaks to get the audience involved in some small manner. The choreography and timings of the songs meant that she couldn't miss a beat (not that she was lip-synching) to ensure that everything went smoothly.

Times like this felt amazing to her: being able to sing to her heart's content while inspiring and empowering thousands with each verse.

She began to shudder with excitement, and as she did so, a deep chuckle filled the room.

"You know, Zel. You _really_ know how to keep the crowd on their toes to the last second, huh?" The tiger singsonged, smiling widely and showing his massive rows of teeth.

The doe giggled and shrugged. "It wouldn't be a show if I didn't show."

So much was true. While she may have backup singers and dancers, she was the star attraction. _The_ Gazelle. And as such, she couldn't just _not_ show up, it would be rude and inconsiderate of her adoring (paying) fans. It was as much of their night as it was hers.

 _I wonder if he'd show this time_. she mused, hoof tapping at the underside of her chin in deep thought.

Though she did appear to be thinking, the tiger, Tom, wouldn't give her any slack. So he simply did what any good backup did and tapped at her muzzle with the base of the stringed instrument.

After shoving the thing out of her face and then (rather uncouthly) tearing it away from Tom, Gazelle took to strumming the guitar to ensure it was tuned for the show. She played one note and her face soured.

"That is not a G!" she yelled, quickly taking to tightening the string to fit the appropriate note.

The tiger couldn't help but chuckle out a deep, bellowing laugh that sounded almost like a roar. It echoed and bounced, throwing her off tune as she huffed and stared at the cat in annoyance. From the sharp look she gave him, he rolled his eyes and smiled.

With a few more tries, she was able to get the key up to par and strummed it again. This time, with more gusto and receiving the pitch she desired. "Perfect!"

Now with all the preparations out of the way, all she had to do was wait... which never ended up in silence her when someone was around.

Tom stretched and yawned. "Y'know, it's about time you got your rear in gear bushy-tail."

It was a common nickname she was given due to her bush like tail. Well, that and: "Zel", "Gabby", "Gala", "Prancess", "Lady Gaza" and " _she who caused a blackout with her horns..._ ".

Though they were all in good fun, she _hated_ the last two, and was grateful that Tom didn't-

"Did you almost walk into the electric closet and cause a power outage again?"

Her ear twitched and she paced a bit closer to the tiger.

"I didn't cause a blackout, dummy," she said, taking a second to playfully hip-check her natural enemy. And in turn, he theatrically stumbled to the side.

"Oww..." The tiger clutched his side in faux agony. "Should I count that as assault with a deadly weapon?"

It was something that she always tried to find a moment to do: de-stress before a show and find the time to have fun with her crew.

She winked back, placing a hoof on her hips and holding the guitar at an angle. "Estas caderas no mienten." she said with a wink, her tone fully in her native tongue.

The tiger huffed, shaking his head. "And once again, we've lost Bengala in translation. Right, Jerry?"

Gazelle looked at the tiger quizzically. _And now he's hearing his voice everywhere, huh? I keep telling him to-_

"Yep, her mic is definitely off." The tiger chimed in, placing a paw on his ear and revealing his own personal 'universal' headset. " _Or_ she's ignoring you."

Immediately, Gazelle turned the mic back on to hear near yelling fill her ear. _"-nd tell her that you have ten seconds to get both your tails ready before-"_

"OKAY!" Gazelle shot back, painfully having to lower the volume setting before she went deaf.

This caused the tiger to smirk and chuckle at her misfortune. She'd be sure to get him back for it later.

As promised, no less than several seconds later a heavy screeching sound began to rumble throughout the small room; the lift was beginning its ascent.

Gazelle huffed and clutched at the small necklace she wore. _You got this._

She was about to repeat herself when she felt a soft weight upon her shoulder. Tom had taken to her side and looked down to her with concern.

"Are you ready?" he asked, gently purring to help ease her mind.

Taking a moment, she nodded in assurance. It wasn't that she was nervous about doing the show. No. It was what _this_ meant that truly held her mind.

Her shoulder was gently squeezed. "It's just a song, Zel. You've done plenty of them, you shouldn't have nervous jitters."

She raised a brow and scoffed at even the notion. _Who does he think I am?_

"HA!" She reeled back and laughed, nearly poking the poor tiger in his chin with her horns before she stared him down. "For _you_ , it's a song." she accused, pointing at him with one hoof and dramatically positioning her guitar with the other as the skyline opened for the elevator. "For _me_ , it's a way of life!"

From the moment the elevator stopped and began to open, pouring light in for the two, Gazelle could hear the cheers and shouts of thousands upon thousands of fans that filled the Zootenial Stadium. Animalia as it's commonly called.

She turned to the tiger and gave a curt nod. "I'll see you at the duet," she said with a singsong and chipper tone before handing him the guitar and practically galloping up the short ramp to the stage.

"Better not break a leg!" he called back, much to her annoyance. He did that all the time just to watch her trip ungracefully just before reaching the crest of the walkway.

Catching her balance, and mentally rambling through ways of payback for later, the doe took a deep breath and strode out to greet her adoring fans.

Flashes of cameras entered her vision under the bright stage lighting. What could be hundreds of elephant trumpets, sheep bleats, beckons, calls, and an infinity of canine howls filled her ears from the outskirts of the stage.

Smiling towards the masses, her mic hissed with the words 'you're live'. _This song is alive too._

Nodding and thinking back to her song lineup for the night, she blew a kiss to what could be all of the city watching. The sheer amount of cheers she garnered from the gesture was almost overwhelming.

There wasn't a single second that she kept still while giving a show, and this one was no exception.

She took a step forward, striding and showing off her dazzling dress to catch their attention and greet them all. "Good evening ZOOTOPIA!" No matter how many times she said that at any of her shows, it was always the same response: an entire stadium full of cheers.

While she stood there, smiling and greeting the crowd as she always did, she felt a bit more... excited than usual. Not from the jitters or anything that she got before a show, or even the pressure she felt should any mishap happen (because the whole blackout thing was a mess that she barely managed to get over with a sea of cellphone lights in an almost vigil like performance). But it was simply-

Her mic hissed, 'And you're all set for the first song.'

Not but a second later, the music for her song 'Try Everything' began playing.; it was time. There was a skip of her feet to the music beginning to play.

It only took her a moment to register it before she raised her hooves and started clapping. "Vamos todos, arriba esas patas y bailen conmigo!"

She had always rehearsed like this. Speaking in the two languages she knew to greet the masses and get them moving. In her mind - and in practice - being able to reach more by simply in their native tongue worked wonders on and off stage.

In no time, she had her hooves on her hips, swaying them to and fro. "Shake those tails with me! Come on!" Aside from just her beautiful singing, her ability to keep her hips in motion during a dance (or assault as Tom had said) was practically mesmerizing.

Just as she instructed - though she knew that many didn't understand initially - droves of mammals began to rise out of their seats, though many were already standing in awe.

As they all began to clap, she herself felt the rhythm of the music weave its way over her. Every note caused her to be more at ease, and what started as a simple tap of her heels to the tune became her dancing in full swing. And for this performance, it would be nothing short of spectacular.

Before she could even sing the first lyric of the song, several of her backup dancers came in sync from either side. It always amazed her how - despite their size and stature - they were so well coordinated while _covered_ in glitter.

She had to bite back a chuckle when her cue to sing came up. _Glitter Tigers,_ she mused, remembering how once she requested more glitter to make her performance shine more... and the poor guy who was voluntold to go first by her manager... They were all lucky he only had to get a sinus flush and was out for a week.

"Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh~" she sang at the top of her lungs, not completely lost yet as she still had work to do with the song. Still, she was eagerly awaiting the moment she could tell everyone the good news.

In her mind, it was all the same, yet different. What makes a Gazelle performance a _Gazelle_ performance isn't just the song and dance, it was leaving behind something memorable; something she fully intended to do that night.

Her backup dancers did as they rehearsed, nearing her and posing to the rhythm and on every key. Being the backbone of her show, they never stood still as cameras flashed and the doe sang her heart out as she did nearly every day. "Try Everything~"

She felt both the love she had for this and many other songs she'd sing that night like: Let it Goat, Part of Your Wool, Can You Feed the Lion, Ara-Bunny Nights, the list went on.

Through none of the songs did the crowd die down or did she even stop to take a break. It was almost midnight when she was near the end of her lineup for the night. It was finally time for her unveil the little surprise she had in store for the world.

Seeing the masses in front of her as she placed a hoof on her hip and huffed from the strenuous dances she had done, she smiled.

"How's everybody doing?" she asked, comically swaying back and forth. "Any hips fallen off yet?"

She could tell some of them enjoyed the joke, but she could also have _sworn_ she heard something snapping from one of the front row seats.

Raising a brow she narrowed her eyes and pointed. "I said it before, hips don't lie." A small burst of laughter was what she got in response. She smiled shook her hips. "Pueden repararla en la enfermería, sólo díganles que Gazelle les manda." While it was clear that she was teasing them, she hoped it wasn't bad enough for them to be _fully_ hospitalized.

With the little bit of pressure taken off of her, the doe took a few deep breaths. She was trying to both bide her time to rehearse everything and ensure that all of her other dancers were off the stage.

While it usually took only a solid minute for them all to disappear, the long time they spent dancing took its toll on all of them. It took Mateo a full minute and a half to slink his tail out of view.

Tigers all gone, she tapped her foot in impatience. "No worries, I'm not shooing them away," she addressed her fans, "They just don't have enough glitter for what's next."

She could hear a mix of laughs and gasps from all around as some, she figured, had come fully expecting a surprise of some kind. One she could make out in the front was a rather... round cheetah, practically squealing... and next to a bear and a bull? Inwardly she shrugged.

'All clear you two,' she heard in her headset. _Perfect, just what I needed._

Taking a few steps back, she began to almost skip when she heard her song, _that song_ hum in her ears.

"I guess many of you were wondering why I called this the 'Harmony' concert, huh?" she said, hearing a cut few lines from the team behind her mic before the crowd erupted in more of a sea of cheers than before. It was almost enough to bring a tear to her eyes, and a warmth to her heart.

"Well, _we're_ here to sing you a very, very special song that I haven't sung in a long time. Something I've never released, so this is a monumental occasion." From the moment she said 'we', she felt like she was on the verge of tears. She even had to refrain from clutching her necklace out of sheer joy. "And who else better to sing it with me than my friend."

She waved her hooves in the direction of the stairwell that lead to the elevators and, in what could be considered a dazzling flair for any showmammal, Tom strode forward, eyes focused and guitar being strummed in a calm melody to break the silent monotony on stage.

The fans _roared._

Gabrizella herself stood there in complete awe. Silver and Blue, Gold and Red.

Wordless, and for the first time since the show started, she didn't even move.

The tiger approached, cheerfully smiling and waving to a booming audience all while stepping to a beat, a rhythm that she could hear echoing in her head without anyone ever seeing or hearing it; and certainly not feeling it, yet.

'Zel, you there?'

It was her manager's voice that snapped her out of the stupor and stare. Before she had realized it, she was blinking at a baffled tiger that was holding out her guitar with a faint glimmer of concern in his eyes.

Carefully, almost hesitantly, she reached for the acoustic instrument. The moment it reached her hooves touched the fine, shimmering wood of the instrument, her heart felt like it was about to explode.

'Bengala? Tom, did we lose her again?'

For however long she stared out at the audience, she simply smiled as the crowd's roar slowly died down. _Just like old times, huh?_

"Gazelle?"

When she heard the tigers voice again, she started to hum. It was less so her own song and more so _their_ song. And with Tom giving her a curious look and seeing the sheen of his accentuated clothing shine like her own, she chuckled, "Let's not keep them waiting."

Slowly and from sheer memory, she strummed the guitar and hummed a little tune to begin the song. When she heard the faint sound of Tom playing along, she felt the whole thing come to her, far more than they had ever rehearsed; more than what she had imagined.

She waved her hooves for anyone to stand with her as her feet tapped against the ground to the music. "This song is for all of Zootopia!"

Cheers nearly died to what she heard from her own beating heart. Stunning flashes were all but ignored by her, and even the constant 'WE LOVE YOU GAZELLE!' was something so far away as her hooves effortlessly found their place on chords.

Soon, there was a perfect balance and tune found between the two of them. Her rhythm matched his in complete unison; exactly what the song was about. She heard, felt every strum of his instrument alongside hers, and just like before she began to dance and sing to leave something behind in their hearts; the thing that made her concerts known by her name.

Her heart pounded in her chest as the first verses echoed in her mic.

" _Everyday prejudice is seen everywhere you're pred, I'm prey I'm told that there just should be scare. But I can see more. The common ground is  
right there. Ignore those fangs and claws, and you will see it_!"

All the while she sang, she could feel the cheers bouncing in waves off the stage. Her first verse in the song complete, she had to wait and hold back for theirs.

And no sooner did she strum the last chord for her line, Tom stepped forward with a tender, calming voice despite his species. A complete complement to her own radiant cadence.

Her head tossed back and she looked into his eyes as they sang together.

" _Take my paw, we show that it doesn't matter. Deep in my heart, I know we all can live together. Mammals of all kind can live in peace and harmony my friend_!"

It was at times like that that made her heart soar: the harmonious resonance that echoed beyond them. The ones that were designated and diehard fans that cheered her on... disappeared; they were _all_ her friends, this was _their_ moment, _their_ song.

Having to back down when Tom stepped forward to face her and sing to the crowd was... well she couldn't describe it. A deep reminiscence? Longing for the past with hope for the future?

" _Since I met you I feel that there will be a chance. Because like you just ignore my claws and fangs, I know there can be change. There can be a city a city that will fit to its basic idea."_

There was something about the way he sang it. _The key? No, that can't be it. Why does-_

He moved closer. She stepped forward. A circle of a dance that mirrored two halves of a whole as their voices, in tandem and blissful melody, mingled with the wild cheers of the city.

 _"Take my paw, we show that it doesn't matter. Deep in my heart, I know we all can live together. Mammals of all kind can live in peace and harmony my friend."_

She wanted that. Truly, deeply, a longing that she couldn't describe as her vision blurred but her voice remained stalwart. She could not-

 _"Take my paw, we show that it doesn't matter~"_

 _No..._

 _"~Deep in my heart, I know we all can live together~"  
_  
-would _never_ let her voice waver for what this meant to her; to _them_.

 _"~Mammals of all kind can live in peace and harmony my friend."_

From the moment the tiger stopped his part in their dual verse, she felt her heart skip a beat.

This one verse, above them all...

"When we look inside ourselves we'll realize _that change will only start with all of us~"_ This simple truth resonated with her to the core, so much that, _"~I know it won't be easy and the concern in your eyes says that it won't be served on a silver plate."_ It would _always_ shine within _her_ eyes.

What was more, was that when he would sing...

 _"I know we all have limitations and we make mistakes but we can succeed if we keep on trying~"_ She felt so much more in tune with that truth, so much so that, _"~And the confidence in your eyes is all it takes to see a golden future as our fate_." It _forever_ shone within _his_ eyes.

And whenever their voices sang, and hearts felt as though eternity was far closer.

 _"Take my paw, we show that it doesn't matter. Deep in my heart, I know We all can live together. Mammals of all kind can live in peace and harmony my friend."_

Her hooves glided across the instrument as if it were a stream of water while his paws played like a rushing wind. Their bodies, their breath; their heart and minds unified.

 _"Take my paw, we show that it doesn't matter."_ There was only one way she could describe it. _"Deep in my heart, I know We all can live together."_ One unbidden and undeniable emotion that would never be broken. " _Mammals of all kind can live in peace and harmony my friend."_ It was _always_ there in her heart, even now.

There was no other way to describe it. _It's-_

As the duet played the last note of the song she found herself breathing heavy. A mess of a musician saving the best of her performance to the very end, and yet... so little was on her mind. So focused on the memory, the motion, the _emotion._

Lo-

"GA-ZELLE! GA-ZELLE! GA-ZELLE!"

Startled from the sea of shouts, the teary-eyed doe looked out to the stadium. Her hoof slid across the guitar, humming a slow riff as a wild crowd cheered.

A crackle of her headpiece caught her attention as well. 'Good work Zel.' And indeed it was, it was what she was hoping for... maybe a little more. 'Now if you'd stop gawking and standing there like you're frozen in headlights...'

Blinking, she felt the corner of her eyes moist; all the doe could do was smile. A light weight was placed upon her shoulder, and she looked up into the eyes of Tom.

"You were right, it is a way of life." he said comfortingly, the echo of his voice no longer heard in the ocean of her name.

Gabrizella didn't know what to say or think, so she did the only thing she could: she turned to the stage and waved. "Thank you ZOOTOPIA!"

As the whistles, roars, bleats, cheers, trumpets, and howls all came towards them, Gazelle was truly happy that she was finally able to share this with them all.

Her heartbeat slowed from the tempo, the rush of the splendour of the music. She wished to remember the moment, that one little place her mind and heart raced and danced.

 _Maybe one day,_ she mused, _they'll feel the same._

Walking off stage, she made mental notes of what to do for the time being, though all that was on her mind was every single note. But all of that would have to wait for later, she had a signing and party to go to. She wouldn't keep anyone that wanted to meet her waiting.

* * *

Hours after the concert had gone by smoothly, Gazelle found herself somewhat anxious and tired. Now sporting Too tired to do much, but so anxious that she couldn't sleep. Besides, she was a good few miles away from home and still in the same dress she had at the concert; all else she had was her purse and guitar to strum.

The venue that was chosen for her 'meet and greet' was at one of the most prominent spots in Sahara Square - aside from the Palmtree Hotel where her penthouse suite was - but it just didn't appeal to her so much.

The 'Olivine Terrace' as so it was called, was a beautiful garden who's motto was to always 'branch out to others'; something that she always did.

Its simple aesthetic design of hedges and open seating made it look almost like a country club in the desert climate. But that's not what she was there for. No. She was here for a gruelling, daunting task that left her exhausted beyond words.

It was a constant, automated task of: sign this (picture, book, clothing item, cast, body part), take a picture with (me, my kids, my family, this stranger I just found outside), we love you (Gazelle, horn lady [for the kids that didn't know her name], my angel), can you please (sing Fole Play, take me with you, adopt me!).

Most of the fans were stopped by her bodyguards when they got too rowdy, but a select daring few managed to be held down by one of the tigers as she signed away at some document (she even had to have a lawyer around because there was the occasional one that brought a marriage license or other legal binding document).

A bright smile plastered on her muzzle. _I can't believe that one guy wanted me to co-sign for his tuition._

But thankfully, all of that was behind her. And the after-party had been exactly as she expected: a horde of fans and co-workers all grouped together and getting hammered drunk and kicked out by bouncers. Pretty standard stuff for her, but not generally the crowd she hung around, famous or not.

There was always that one (or a few) that binged too much and would regret things later. _That poor hare. You never mix tequila and vodka like that and hope for the best._

So as that went on and she got bored, she managed to find a way out like she usually tried to do. Though it was no easy feat as she was a super celebrity (not to mention surrounded by her staff and everyone else) a slip of them not watching her constantly and she bounded away as graceful as... well, a gazelle.

She even managed to slip away (completely unnoticed) with her guitar. Later for the crowds, later for the monotony and drunken (attempted) bar-fights. Gazelle was free.

Under pale, calming moonlight, she strode the streets simply humming and strumming the guitar in blissful solitude. Her every thought brought her back to the song that she played, and how she felt.

The first twinkling stars glittered and glistened in her golden eyes as everything started to blur around her. Streetlights turned on that she would ignore, cars zoomed by that she barely avoided, whatever few patrons were still out attempted to call her without her noticing. The doe was back where she belonged, in the heart of the song.

And as before when she nearly danced her way into her co-workers (she got the tally back after the concert and she owed 15 coffees for the night) music, her music... _their_ music filled her being.

Her hooves flowed like water over each string, her hips swayed to the motion. She didn't care who or what was watching, this was her... _their_ moment.

" _Everyday prejudice is seen everywhere you're pred~"_

Hair fluttering in the breeze and hearing the tune in the wind, all she could do was follow through.

 _"~Deep in my heart, I know we all can live together~"_

Her own heart beat faster to match his, her necklace jingled in harmony. Nimble hooves strummed on the guitar like they were made for each other, and her voice sang higher and higher while tears parted her closed eyes.

 _"~I know it won't be easy and the concern in your eyes says that it won't be served on a silver plate."_

Every note brought a pang to her heart. It was beyond what words she could say, feel, remember.

" _Mammals of all kind can live in peace and harmony my friend!"_

The last note sang with the heavens as their witness, she was back there again; nothing would ever ruin this moment again. Nothing could-

"A bit overdressed to be out in these parts, huh?"

-ruin such a beautiful routine...

Gazelle swallowed a lump in her throat as the world (again) came back to her. She was no longer on stage being adored by family and fans alike. No longer surrounded by her - annoying and loving - co-workers and bodyguards.

No, it was nothing like that.

The doe blinked and she went from the subtle ambience of a garden retreat, to what just might be the slums of Sahara Square. It was dark save for a sliver of moonlight that peeked above a set of tall buildings and faded red neon lights.

Being at the mouth of an alleyway, there was litter and graffiti tagged on about near every surface imaginable. Old brick long need of repair clung dismally to the sides of either building that she could see. Not a visible inch was free of random scribble of gang signs or some sort of assorted hate speech.

Her hackles rose as she _knew_ where she was: Thorn Lane.

The place that had a reputation for... less friendly mammals, either day or night. And the thing about any city - even Zootopia - was that crime and criminals had an affinity for rearing themselves in the dark. She felt her legs tremble as she traced the voice back to the source.

Just behind her - loosely hooded with a toothy grin - a jaguar emerged from the shadows. _Okay... I can tell he doesn't want an autograph._

Wishful thoughts on a back-burner, Gazelle's instinct took over and she backed away; a costly mistake. For not only did she tremble and nearly trip in her heels, but she also backed away into the confines of the alley itself; light receded and made way for the large cat to enter into his territory.

She wanted to run, needed to but every which way she turned, she found nothing but looming walls and shadows that grasped at her heart; fear gripping her voice from screaming entirely.

The jaguar padded forward, backing her into a fence."That's a pretty necklace you got there lady." he said, twirling around what she could only make out as a small blade, glinting under the moonlight.

Protectively, she clutched at the pendant, hoping desperately that this was just some fervid dream; a hallucination caused by exhaustion from a long show. But, when she blinked in that sheer hope, her result was the same as before: stuck between a fence and a thief.

"No, esto no, por favor!" Famous last words for her. Things that she only heard on soap operas when there was nothing on daytime television on her days off.

The cat paused for a moment, baffled and bewildered at her sudden shift in language before he chuckled, "I don't know what you said, but it sounded like no," Gasping at the idea, Gazelle shuddered and shook her head; she refused to let the thief take what he wanted, this was too precious to her to ever let go... another mistake as he laughed and shrugged. "May as well take both then."

Feeling her heart race, Gazelle's grip on her pendant increased. Her thoughts blurred into one as the jaguar flicked the blade menacingly towards her.

 _This isn't happening!_

A step, a flinch, a chuckle, a gasp. All of these things happened in unison as a burning fear and unwillingness to give in gnawed at her. And now only about a meter away, she saw her end drawing near.

One final flash streaked across her vision: her entire life.

The glorious harmony, and the dance. _All of it_. The splendour, the music and rhythm... _the song._

In an instant, she heard the lyrics playing, her heart raced just like back then. Fervour took over her and the tune filled her every motion.

Her hoof clutched dangerously on the wooden instrument that served to bring peace, now felt empowered by her determination to play the song again.

She didn't know what happened next, or even how, but she saw a glimmer of wood fly across her field of vision. The sheen of polish, the sound of rushing air and flowing water collided with one another in a magnificent symphony. It was followed by what could have been the same crack of a hip she had heard at the concert, and then a low, muffled screech.

By the time she registered what had happened, the jaguar had doubled over, clutching his nose as a mass of red painted over the sullen, graffiti-riddled walls of the alleyway.

The rush she felt then made her eyes grow wide, empowering her as a new force overtook her. Though at first, she was hesitant, trembling at what event just transpired, that feeling was soon eliminated when she saw the decrepit crook lock eyes with her in what could be a display of vengeance.

... It was the wrong move for him.

Gabrizella simply did as she could, let the music take over her. And without any further hesitation, she did just so.

Her feet couldn't stay themselves as she approached. Her hooves clutched the instrument that became a weapon as she strummed a new tune to a song only she could hear.

The alley was filled with screams, shouts and hollers (though she knew none of the falsetto cries were hers) as the doe wailed at the helpless thief.

Before long, and after giving the brick walls a fresh coat of paint, Gazelle stood over the daring fool, huffing and loosely clutching to the instrument with whatever strength she had left.

Adrenaline coursing through her veins, and feeling a hot, sickening dampness pressed down on her forearms and muzzle. Her eyes stayed focused on the jaguar, seeing only the faintest of twitches before nothing at all.

It was her own breath that she heard that caught up with her after her heartbeat played like a drum in her ears. The same breath that quickly became raspy and uneven when she saw, _truly_ saw what she had done.

 _No..._

Horror gripped her as she felt what should have been a calming Spring breeze turn to knives - not much unlike what her would-be assailant had - that began to scrape at her downy fur.

For the thief just before her lay unmoving, limbs splayed in all manner of direction. Her grip tightened around the strings of her guitar and for the first time since the attack, she felt a stickiness on the golden strings turned crimson. Even part of the instrument was missing, cracked and splintered in random bits everywhere.

She would have dropped the guitar had it not been for the thought that ran through her mind: _Murder._

Heart now feeling like a race car and synapses in her brain kicking, she thought of what she could do. She wanted to simply run, but- _Hit and run... not good..._

Her hooves trembled as an automatic thought rationalized itself. She immediately went for her cellphone. _He has to help me! He's the only one who can!_

Muttering under her breath and fumbling with that accursed phone, she hastily dialed in the contact number, staring fearfully at the bloodied mess before her.

 _I-I killed him I-_

Shattered splinters remained all across the dirt and gravel passageway. She couldn't help but blink rapidly at what she had just done. _I'm going to prison for this... Wait! I can't do time! It's worse when they all know who you are!_

*Ring*

Hooves crossed. _Pick up, pick up, pick-_

"Mmm... what do you want! It's two in the-"

A tired, gruff voice answered back. She didn't know how to respond.

Her breathing became erratic. "P... I-I n-help. Help! Right now!"

There was a pause, a breath, a beat of silence that made her hairs raise. Nothing prepared her for this night, not her concert, not her song, not even the calm evening walk... nothing.

A terrible flash of an image appeared in her mind: iron bars and an orange jumpsuit minutes after a half-hearted mugshot. The image made itself more real the moment she looked down at the crook, unresponsive and bloody.

Her heart hammered in her chest. "I-i-" No words came out as she backed away, teary eyed and wishing she had paid more attention.

"Look..." The voice that came over her phone, gruff and hoarse, startled her and nearly made her drop the device entirely. "Zel... there better be a good reason you-"

"Please," she sobbed, choking back tears and feeling her back press against the brick walls of the alley. "I n-need... I-"

"Ugh...Sérieux poulette, tu te fiches de moi!" She admired that about him that, just like her, he managed to effortlessly baffle others with his native tongue. "Meet me at the Palm Spring, I'll pick you up from there." She felt a simple hope, and that was enough. "You owe me for this one."'

From the moment the phone clicked to leave her alone, Gazelle stood up. The thief lay still and walls still painted. She had to move, she'd get the help she needed.

So with trembling and trepidation, the doe grasped her guitar and galloped out of the alleyway. Her destination not too far away, she had only her music to soothe her as she hoped, _hoped_ that all would be alright.

Her pendant swayed and jiggled in tune to her every step. A constant reminder that, much like her song, she was a symbol of peace and harmony. The same symbol that was a beacon of hope to a darkened city.

* * *

Heya, welcome to the A/N section where we have a bit to say before you leave.

 **DLW** says: Hey all, DLW here with an awesome collab. I just want to thank this amazing team for helping put together what's gonna be a hilarious epic of a story. More to come on this and be sure to review/comment if you're able. More "La Guitarrista" (The Guitarrist) is coming soon.

 **Hawner** says:

"This is my very first time being part of a multi-author fanfiction and I can't be more invested in it. The plot we are developing has a lot of potential and that is because DLW, Senestran and ReaderNo31142 are amazing artists in their respective fields and styles. I am sure this is going to be awesome. Just don't expect something serious here, there is going to be lots of humor in each chapter mixed with an intense story. I hope you enjoy it. ^^

So, are we done? Is that enough? Perfect. When can I expect to be paid? What do you mean you are not paying me? You told me there was money involved! You liar!"

 **Senestran** says:

"Hi all, it's Senestran. Proud member of the WildeHopps forever and ZootopiaUnderground ^^

Thanks to DLW to give me the chance to help him for this awesome story, and thanks to Hawner and Reader for being as crazy as me and good friends. I hope you'll like to read as much we all four like to create it. Have fun !"

 **ReaderNo31142** says:

Hi, it's ReaderNo31132... Writer of songs... Shipper of WildeHopps...

I hope you like my little song I wrote for Gazelle. It's based on the song "Underneath your clothes" by Shakira (because it had to be a Shakira Song in my opinion ). It was a great project so far and I'm glad to be a little part of it. I hope it's not too cheesy... Wait... Cheese is good...

 **[Updates]**

If you'd like to see more of what's going on for "La Guitarrista", please look on my DA page under journals as 'Snippets' of future content and chapters will appear ever so often.

 **[Other Sites]**

And I hope you get a chance to read this and our other stories as well. We can be found at these sites:

 **Fan Fanfiction:**

~dancinglunarwolves

~hawner

~senestran

 **DeviantArt:**

dancinglunarwolves

Hawner

Senestran

readerno31142

 **Archive Of Our Own:**

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If you liked this story and have time please post a review, and if you would like to keep up with the story please fav or follow. Questions, comments, concerns, please message us about anything. If you'd like updates, please check the profile page and or message me.

Till Next Time  
 **-DLW**


	2. Nocturne of Rebirth

La Guitarrista

Chapter 2

[Nocturne of Rebirth]

* * *

There was something about the dead of night that brought both serenity, and chaos in its stillness. Its cool, calming embrace lulled cities to sleep and gave the promise of a new day soon.

The swirl of stars amidst the darkness and ambient, silver light generally brought peace to all who could see the heavens. And for eons, many, _many_ mammals would sing solace to the silent moon. It would _always_ shine within her eyes.

Yet amidst this tranquility, this... beauty, there were still those whose only purpose was to use the night as a shroud for their misdeeds. Their use of the time would be for greedy gains of gold and valuables of others until the rise of the sun unveiled their cover. It _forever_ shone within his eyes.

And with both serenity and chaos, the mortified gazelle galloped down the sidewalk with her guitar clutched desperately within her hooves.

 _NONONONONO_! her thoughts screamed with each hurried, terrified step.

She couldn't remember the last time she actually had to run for anything other than high school track. Being surrounded by bodyguards, waiting staff, and crew really didn't allow her to do much other than a weekly exercise routine, and that was mostly Zoombaah and dance practice.

This, however-

*BEEP* "Watch it, lady!"

-was difficult in comparison; cardio _wasn't_ her thing.

Narrowly avoiding what was at least the third car in the past four blocks, Gazelle didn't slow her pace. She didn't know what had become of the villainous thief, but she didn't dare look back either.

 _I killed him... I killed him_!

The glossy blur of faded red neon and flash of off-colour headlights was all that she could see in passing aside from the occasional obscuring of her whimsical, hazard causing hair.

"G-gotta-" She cried out the words, unable to finish the sentence when she rounded the next corner.

Somewhere in the haze of her mind, she vaguely knew where she was. While she hadn't walked the streets of this sub-district much at all, having to pass through here kept the directions fresh in her memory.

 _Down Thistle Drive and take a left at Barbed Street, head straight into Cactus Court, and then Palm Spring is a block away.  
_  
The instructions she gave herself were simple to follow and hard to understand. With her lungs burning and the sickening feeling of blood seeping down to her skin from her short fur, it left her thoughts in a perpetual state of panic.

Even the light whisper of chords from her instrument was enough to drive her further into madness. When she took a corner too narrow and clipped into the rough brick walling, the echo of wood against brick caused her to jump and yell.

And while every note she sang was like that of an angel with horns, this was akin to a warrior's battle cry; this too shocked her as it was unfamiliar.

Now with each stride becoming leaps and bounds, Gazelle tore down the sidewalk with reckless abandon. If it weren't for her holding her guitar, both of her hooves would have taken on lives of their own; hopefully one would find a reprieve in 'LaLa Land' while the other was in purgatory at least.

The unbidden clamour of her cries were as a siren in the night. Though very few would hear or care to hear as sleep undertook many of the city's citizens, to her it was nothing short of a cry for help.

Still, as she continued to traverse a path of sheer memory and hope, there was a little light just ahead of her. Nearly tripping over her dress several times as the thing wasn't exactly built for running, she identified the light as one she somewhat recognized.

Dashing past the landmark and thankful that it was at the entrance to the Palm Spring Park, she nimbly (and clumsily) ran through the welcoming gate; the cold, eerie, and uneven clop of her hind hooves was the only sound to welcome her.

Not only did the sound make her feel uncomfortable along with the nausea of her assault gnawing at her, but the sheer chill of the atmosphere nipped at her heels. Sahara Square was harsh both day ad night, her brush tail was about the only thing that would stay warm for a little while.

So here and now, Gazelle ran across the cool pavement of the park. She didn't have any clue as to 'where' she was supposed to meet here exactly, but she only hoped that the cops - or more so another thief or worse - wouldn't show up to greet her.

 _There_! Her eyes caught sight of a nearby palm tree. It was one of the hundred or so scattered about and was surrounded by drought resistant grass.

So taking a turn off the path, she ambled towards the tree of refuge. With every crunch of frosted grass, her finely tuned hearing drew horrid imaginations. _Gotta hide, gotta hide_! And hide she would, at least until she was safe.

While in her state of duress and stumbling in low light, she failed to notice the park bench she bumped into.

Even when she heard the faint sound of tearing and lurched forward, she didn't stop; she couldn't be bothered by it now, nothing would hinder her from reaching her goal. She got up, struggling to do so as her body ached from fear, and trudged her way to the tree.

Practically slamming her back against the palm tree, she tried (and failed) to calm her breathing; she still sounded like a running engine. The little click of her horns against the bark became a slow, shadowy ambiance to her usual symphony.

Her mind started to wander. _Okay... you hit the guy, and he's dead_. She looked down to her hooves, tattered dress, and guitar. Each was stained with blood that she could only see thanks to the sliver of moonlight beaming down upon her. _Y-you've got b-bloo-ood... on... on your hooves_ -

She didn't get much farther than that as every possible image popped into her head: prison cells, prison inmates... prison showers. Her teeth clenched at the idea, she was going to lose it when the ZPD showed up; she was a pretty face, but an ugly crier.

Her throat seized, she started to slide down the tree; every bristle of her tail was ruffled and her hoof weakly held the guitar in place. She had never experienced this before in her life: a panic attack. But now seemed like the time for that, a mental breakdown, and everything else before she was hauled off forever; the voice of a humble star, silenced forever.

With a few tears starting to fall, she heard a small, faint noise from just beyond the tree.

 _IT'S THE COPS_! her every thought shouted, unable to prepare her for the cuffing, reading of rights and mug shot.

But after a moment... she didn't hear 'You're under arrest' or 'Hooves where I can see them', and she didn't know if that was good.

In fact, it may have been worse. _THEY'RE BACK TO FINISH THE JOB_! her thoughts screamed, switching gears and forcing her to grip her improvised weapon.

Breath erratic and heart rate increased, she hefted the guitar and shouldered it in one quick motion; she waited. Though her limbs protested in fear, and her horns scraped against the palm tree's bark, she stood as still as she could.

In her preparation for battle, she didn't hear a sound. _Don't let them get you, don' let them get you-_

Cold... that's how she felt then. And it wasn't just from the atmosphere as it was always just above freezing at night in Sahara Square. But she felt as if someone was watching her, poised to strike when she let her guard down.

 _Not again_. she told herself, steeling her nerves as best as she could.

There was a rustle in the grass, her teary eyes opened and she tore away from the tree. With the weapon held aloft and ready to crash down on her new found foe, Gazelle lurched forward with as much strength as she could muster. She began wildly swinging; no rhythm to her dance, no melody in her moves, no grace in her steps.

"No te lo permitiré!" she shouted, taking blind shuffles forward all while fighting away her would-be attacker. Her muscles ached and groaned when she went for a wide swing; they screamed for her to stop when she leapt forward and came down with an overhead attack.

Throughout her blatant assault, she never once heard the voice of any enemy. It was only her shouting that she heard aside from the misplayed strummings of her prized guitar.

Within moments her body gave out. Exhausted from the physical strain of flailing around and running, Gazelle let her form fall. She let the guitar loose from her grip, using it to prop her up as she heaved and scanned around for who she managed to take down. And when she saw that neither body nor mammal was around, she was both terrified and confused.

Huffing and clutching her pendant tightly, she caught her breath. _Maybe it was the wind_? she thought.

"Yo, Zel!"

 _Not the wind_!

She pivoted, hooves expertly gliding across the weapon like a maestro about to perform their concerto; her second wind renewed her. She would not let this be her finale, her swan song; an elegiac to her setting sun on such a day.

NO! She would fight to the bitter end!

But the moment she took her stance to defend herself, she stopped. For just a few feet away, she spotted a little critter scurry through the tall grass. Its large ears and barely visible tawny fur - much like her own, but of a far shorter coat - made her relax, if only a bit. And not only that, the voice used to call her was absolutely familiar.

"Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas avec toi?!" came a gruff, accented shout. Its deep bellow plucked the strings of her heart. She felt terrible about raising a weapon against who she would consider probably her best friend.

She went to apologize. "Pequeño," her voice, hoarse from running and drained from the events that transpired, was the complete opposite of his. "I'm sorry. I-i... thought you were someone else and-"

"You 'bout attacked me!" came the sharp interruption, the grass parting to reveal a little fox with fangs barred and a gaze that could turn away a much larger predator.

Finnick casually strode towards her, head held high and ear tips nearly touching the ground. His usual black bowling shirt with a single red pinstripe was covered with a heavy spring jacket due to the chill of the district at night.

And much like Gazelle, his amber-gold eyes shone deeply under the slowly languishing moon. He was like her in many, many ways aside from their species. One thing that made them different, however, was the fact that he was currently livid.

" _First_ I see you run here, and then hide by a tree like you stole somethin', and then you-" his sneer was cut short by the prey mammal making a beeline towards him. Within seconds, she had abandoned the guitar, knelt down to pick up the flailing fox firmly in her hooves, and drew him desperately in her embrace.

"Fin! Something terrible happened!" she sobbed, tears slowly dripping down her cheek as the fox struggled to break free. "It was horrible... there was so much blood."

Not understanding a word she was saying - due to lack of oxygen and her suddenly speaking her native tongue - Finnick continued his effort to break free from the gazelle's immense grasp. Only when he took in a deep whiff of her scent did he recognize the familiar stench of blood; his ears rose.

Halting his own escape, he tilted his head as much as he could to the sobbing doe. "Zel, what happened?" he asked, his usually gruff tone no more than the hush of a kit.

She didn't respond to his question, she only shuddered and held him closer; he didn't dare try to move.

It took maybe a minute or so before her grip loosened and he could at least feel his arms again. Despite being small of stature, he was not the fragile little fox many saw him as. And when he could wriggle free, he landed on the sidewalk and looked up at her.

Instantly, his jaw dropped as he was horrified at her appearance: tattered dress, jewelry intact, matted spots under her eyes, broken guitar, and red literally everywhere.

Finnick curled his paw in anger, yet none of it was directed at her. _Quand je trouverai le gars qui a fait ça, je-_

His thoughts were interrupted when the scent of blood filled his nostril again. "Why are you covered in blood?" he asked, a subtle hint of compassion under the chastising tone.

The sudden realization came to her, sickening her to the core. "I-I-it's not mine!" she belted out, standng up and stretching her hooves to wave in protest. Only the moment she did so did she see the tint of red that caused her another wave of sorrow and guilt.

Truthfully, Finnick heard that excuse from plenty of mammals before, her included. It was always 'not theirs' when it came time to answer the police. Never worked, though. But this time, Finnick refused to take any answer other than that. _Not hers, huh? Then who tried to kill her?_

Out of the two, he was the one that was stoic, introverted and had a darker sense of humor. He knew he could be a bit undermining - anyone that worked with Nick had to be - but he somehow always managed to make her laugh when they were together. But not this time, she was on the verge of crying her eyes out at what happened; he couldn't stand it when she cried.

So sighing and resigning himself to chauffeur her around to safety, Finnick approached carefully. A prey mammal she may be, but when she's stuck in a stupor, holding a weapon (that she tried to beat him with) and terrified, he needed to have his wits about him.

"Zel," he cooed, watching her slowly lean her tear-filled eyes toward him. _Girl what happened to you,_ he questioned as he reached up a paw to the tattered hem of her dress. He started to pull, hoping to lead her away from here and get her to a place where she could at least feel safer (and warmer) than out in the open; there were a lot of crazy mammals that roamed the streets.

The moment he pulled, he felt a slight resistance in her steps. Angrily turning up to the distraught doe, he reaffirmed his stance. "We gotta go _before_ you freeze yo' tail off! C'mon!"

As if finally getting it, the doe nodded a little and picked up her guitar. Whether defensively or because she couldn't leave it behind, she didn't know.

Finnick strode ahead, he formulated a plan with each little step. _It's too cold out here for her,_ he told himself. _At least the van'll keep her warm. Can't drop her off at the Palm lookin' like that either._

Through his musings, he meandered around various obstacles. Carefully stepping by signs and taking moments to see if anyone would dare approach them. Though he guessed that they wouldn't as nobody goes to a park at night for good reasons.

Once he reached the gate to the park, he smiled a little. He was greeted by none other than a landmark that the famed star had created by accident: The Dancing Light.

What appeared to be a simple, tall, luminescent, and reddish purple lamp post had become a small city wonder in a day. To many, it was a beacon of the park, the place to go to take a picture rather than any trail they had.

Gazelle's incident in nicknaming the thing was because she said that it 'looked like the same colour of jam she had for her toast one morning', and then someone misheard her say ' _It looks like a jam lamp_ ' and they started dancing... she joined them.

Sighing at the memory of him being there, Finnick turned to the vehicle just beyond the landmark. It was an old beat-up van with a mini mural of two wolves from a romance story on it.

Glad that he made it back, he trudged forward until he reached the back of the vehicle. Pausing to keep her just a few feet away, he let go of her and hiked his way to the driver's side door. "Le travail n'est jamais fini," he mumbled, taking out his keys and hopping up to the modified lock near the bottom of the door.

The fennec fox was no fool by any means. Having an unlocked anything meant that he was inviting thieves into his life. He had plenty of that already, and couldn't afford another one.

When he opened the door and leapt inside, Finnick made his way to the back of the van. Passing by the clutter of loose newspapers, empty cans and other such things littering a small couch, he popped open the back doors to see Gazelle simply standing there and staring into space.

He was a little more worried now. Her usual bright and bubbly demeanor was reduced to a shadow of itself. Always talking, singing and dancing, the gazelle before him was none of those things. She was distraught, dismal and covered in blood.

 _I might have to call out tomorrow,_ he thought, pondering over the plethora of things that may have occurred to her. _Definitely have to keep her with me overnight,_ his ears perked up at his sudden realization and he shook off the thought without a second notice; he had to get her to safety.

"Zel." he called in a hushed tone as to not startle her, but she near jumped anyway.

"Ah! Que! No llego tarde al ensayo!"

The doe clutched the guitar for dear life and frantically looked around, snapped out of her stupor. It didn't take her long before her eyes fell upon her rather annoyed fennec friend.

He tapped his feet and rubbed his ears as she nervously chuckled. She could tell that he wasn't amused.

Not wanting to waste more time, he thumbed toward the small space in the van. "Get in," he commanded, walking forward and hopping into the driver's seat. Worried he was, but she wasn't going to just stand there like a deer in headlights all night.

Blinking a few times and feeling a bitter chill of cold wind brush past her, Gazelle crouched a little and made her way in. It was always awkward for her to sit in the van, her horns barely cleared the door, and her larger body frame nearly contorted when she crawled in and pulled her guitar with her.

Bloody, cold, and cramped, she shut the van door as the vehicle roared to life. The doe had never been more thankful and more stressed in her life. She wanted to say something, but Finnick beat her to it.

"Wanna tell me what happened?" he asked calmly.

The hum of ventilation was the only ambiance she received as the crack of engine exhaust warned them of moving forward. Feeling slightly warm air hit her, Gazelle breathed and shuddered.

Her mind played the scene over and over again as if to mock her. The song, the dance, the love in her heart... the alley, the thief... the blood.

Breathing heavily and looking down at her hooves, she awkwardly tried to shuffle away from them, shuffling around newspaper and the small bean bag couch there before her horns scraped against the wall.

There, her tears refused to keep themselves from the open air anymore; her lungs threatened to collapse on themselves.

"I-" she sobbed, reaching up to her horns and scratching them. "I-"

The second he saw what she was doing, he nearly stopped the vehicle. "ZEL! Stop doin' that to yo' horns! You gonna mess 'em up!"

It was a nervous tic she had. Either waxing and stripping her horns or scraping them against things. And while she never showed this in public, he knew it was bad for her as the action could leave them brittle beyond repair.

Eyes pinned on her when she stopped, Finnick couldn't help but pity her, she was always cheerful. But whatever happened to her was tragic, she didn't even bother looking at him. _Definitely an attack. But who'd be after her?_ he thought, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. The tatters on her dress and the blood were clear signs of that; a low growl emitted from his chest when he played the scenario in his mind.

The flash of green light urged him onward and he carefully took a left turn onto Thicket Lane. Nearing his destination more and more, he thought of what to do when he got back. _Were other mammals after her? Would they know where she'd be? Did he have everything she needed to stay the night?_

He nearly pulled the brake lever when he thought the last part, but decided against it as they were doing 40 in a 35. Slightly speeding, he didn't want to startle the distraught doe any more than needed.

So when he finally came to the long stretch of road down a somewhat rundown neighborhood, Finnick had solidified a plan. Parking street side in an unused space, the fox pulled the brakes and shut off the car. Almost immediately, he could feel the chill of the night air hit him. _Gotta get the vents insulated again_.

Pocketing the car keys, he took a deep breath before shuffling to the back of the van. From the little he could see with moonlight hitting the tinted window, Gazelle was idly sitting, staring blankly into nothingness.

Whatever happened to her, he figured, was bad; really, _really_ bad.

He quickly stepped over the amalgam mess that he had in the back of the car and whatever little junk she displaced in her fit of panic. Taking care to crawl around and not disturb her too much, he unlatched the popped open the door and a cool breeze wafted in.

Noticing her shiver and the night air chilling both of their breaths, he hugged his jacket a little more. "Alright', Zel. We're here."

Shaking, and barely seeing in the small space, Gazelle looked out into the open from the van door.

It was quiet, calm and peaceful despite the look of an old worn neighborhood. Trash was littering the street here and there, and there was a single car that sat on cement blocks. What few trees there were mostly bare and specs of grass threatened to shoot forth from every crack in the sidewalk.

It was an unfamiliar sight to her - run-down neighborhoods were peppered here and there throughout the city - however, wherever this was, it was someplace that she had ever thought to go. But before she could question it, the tiny clack of claws hitting pavement drew her attention.

She watched a large pair of ears saunter to the foot of a stone stairway surrounded by an iron fence.

"C'mon," said Finnick. "And close the door behind you."

Nodding and not wanting to stay in a cramped position, Gazelle did just what the fox said. Scrambling to get her guitar out, she clutched it close to her for whatever little warmth it could provide despite the cold strings bracing her fur.

The moment she shut the door and saw her cold breath, she pondered something, "W-where are we going?"

The little fox was already halfway up the stairs. It had been somewhat difficult to navigate, but he always managed. "My apartment," he said flatly, pulling out his other set of keys and putting them in the keyhole designed for his species size.

Gazelle raised a brow. Taking a look at the apartment complex, it was more suited for mammals her size, and a little taller, maybe. Not only that but... didn't he-

"Your apartment?" she questioned, shivering and stepping forward. "You... live here?" she asked again in disbelief, getting a nod from the fox who sighed and pushed the medium sized mammal's door open. "I thought you lived in your van?"

Truthfully, she did think that from all the times they hung out. Whether just relaxing, eating, or playing music, they had always done so with the use of his vehicle. He never mentioned an apartment.

Finnick, who had been looking towards the door, took in a deep breath. "Uh... yeah, I live here," he admitted. "Have been for a while. It ain't much, but it's alight."

Taken aback by this revelation, Gazelle wondered how safe this place was considering the neighborhood. Sure, she knew Finnick wasn't a mammal to be trifled with, but could it really be that good of a place?

She never got to ask as she watched the fox take a small hop to get inside and wave her forward. It took her a moment to realize this, but when she did step inside the building it was a little less chilly.

It was somewhat dimly lit, but she could see the fox shuffle his way down the hall. Old, cracked linoleum flooring and faded fluorescent lighting welcomed her along with the muffled shouts of neighbors. It smelled a little musty and she could see that faded walls needed a bit of a paint job.

She stopped when she heard the click of another door open followed by a loud, ominous creek. Her guitar at the ready, the doe watched the little fox disappear behind a door her size before he called to her, "This is my place, down here. Watch yo' horns on the way down."

Not wanting to be left alone in the hallway, Gazelle quickly pried the door open more and headed in, quietly closing it behind her. She nearly tripped when she realized that it was a step downward. _Quien construye escaleras detras de una puerta?_ she thought, taking measured steps down and adjusting her eyesight to the dark.

No more than three steps were taken before several lights came on and she could see the rest of the way. She looked up and down to see if her horns would clear the ceiling; they did.

Sighing and fixating her sight on the dim, ambient lighting, she walked down the staircase to see Finnick removing his jacket and tossing it into a small cardboard box. He paced around the small room and she got a good look at what he called home.

Like Finnick said, it wasn't much, not by a long shot, but it was still something; nothing compared to what she was used to, but still alright.

Being something of a studio apartment for medium sized mammals, she got a glimpse of his life. Hard stone floor with several plush rugs here and there. What part wasn't either bare or cushioned was cluttered with bundles of newspaper.

A few stray, swinging light fixtures that she needed to watch out for lest she (maybe) electrocuted herself by stabbing them with her horns that had a reputation all their own.

Much like the hallway upstairs, the paint was faded, but he had a few posters here and there of famous singers: Jerry Vole, Martin Gaye, Leopard Seal, Lukas Bearham. She didn't see a poster of her, though; she shrugged.

He had a decent looking - albeit medium mammal sized - couch that sat across from a stand with a wall-mounted TV. How he got it down there was beyond her, but she had known the little guy to be far stronger than he looked; he even told her once he carried around an 80lb popsicle, he only weighed two or three pounds himself.

A mini fridge was tucked into a corner next to a large chest of drawers along with several wall-mounted shelves. A dusty ash tray and small paraphernalia littered the shelf. And while she couldn't tell what much of it was, a picture frame was clear as day.

It was when she fully rounded the room that she heard the gruff coughings of the fox catch her attention. He stood on the couch, arms crossed and looking annoyed. While it wasn't the first time she had seen him this way, with her current state, it was the most terrifying.

"Alright, tell me what happened." asked Finnick, cutting to the real reason why they were there without hesitation.

The room fell silent for a moment; quiet enough that neither could hear even her breathing. Then, as if the dam in her mind was breaking, the doe slumped to the floor.

"I killed him, Fin." she said, her hooves trembling over the strings of her guitar as she blankly stared forward.

And as frustrated as he was that everything was going this way today, Fin couldn't fathom those four words that came to his massive ears.

He blinked. "What?!" he half shouted, half asked. That was _not_ the answer he was expecting.

Gazelle took a shakey breath and weakly continued, "I-I was playing my guitar a-and... singing while walking d-down Torn Street."

 _That's how it usually starts with her_ , he thought. He remembered a time he nearly hit her with his van because she sang and danced her way into the middle of the street. Her ability to spontaneously break into a pseudo musical was uncanny, to say the least.

"There was this... this robber a-and I hit him..." she shuddered, the screams of the victim still fresh in her mind. She trembled as she clutched the little pendant barely hanging onto her neck. "You have to help me! If I go down..."

Unable to register what Finnick was saying, she retreated into her thoughts about prison life. She'd start with one of those tacky orange jumpsuits, completely out of fashion. Then she'd have to forge weapons out of soap and toothbrushes, join a gang and loiter menacingly in a corner during yard time. If she was caught alone in the shower she'd be shived, Or is it shanked? she wondered. Either way, jail life was about to be hers forever.

Unless...

"I-I can run away!" she mumbled, a faint, twitching smile forming. "I-i'll go to the... Nocturnal District? Yeah! Change my last name to... uh..." She was starting to lose it, Fin kept calling her. "La'Gñeb! Yeah, that'll work. Then I'll become a waitress at a restaurant a-and... and-"

"ZEL!"

Catching the fox merely just by her hoof, the doe deflated. "Fin... What do I do?" she asked, curling her legs under her and looking down. With what little shadow cast upon the carpet, all she could see was her life being swallowed by darkness.

The little fox thought hard for a moment. _Self-defense, huh?_ he thought, rummaging through all the legal banter he knew. If it was self-defense during a burglary gone wrong and she escaped in panic, then (bearing a lawyer and her status) she'd likely be let go.

While still upset, he felt relieved that it'd be only a trial that she'd very likely win. If they needed a character witness, then he or anyone in Zootopia would vouch for her and, at worst, she would get community service.

Finnick chuckled a little. "Stay here."

His deep voice deadpanned throughout the small studio apartment and Gazelle could only blink. Through teary eyes, she saw the smug, nonchalant grin that her fox friend had.

"W-what?" she asked, her voice cracking and weak. His suggestion rolled around in her mind as if it was a completely foreign concept.

Finnick shrugged, stalwart in his answer. "I said stay here and sleep it off. It's a lot safer here, we'll check on things in the morning."

With his insistence, she wanted to argue, to find a better answer... but she couldn't. She couldn't think of a single thing that would help her situation other than following his advice.

Going outside was out of the question, it was dark and she almost got mugged when she was alone. She had already beaten some would be robber and when caught by the police, she'd be tried and jailed soon. But yet, while she could even try to, she'd be able to ease her mind even a little bit with a few hours of sleep.

A jittery, bleary sigh escaped her and she nodded to the fox. He responded in kind by pointing to one of top dresser drawers he had. "I got some spare clothes there."

Raising an inquisitive brow, Gazelle slowly rose. She let the guitar lean against the faded paint of the wall while she looked into the drawer. Sure enough, there was a set or two of clothes near her size.

While she took them out and found a (more or less snugly fitting) simple grey cotton dress, odd theories started to spring forth. "Why do you-"

"We got community bathrooms down the hall," he replied, hopping off the couch and padding his way to the mini fridge. She had wondered why she saw no other room here. "I got spare towels and the like in the drawer next to that."

Staring at him for a moment longer than she needed to, Gazelle took the hint and went about getting the rest of the rest of her stuff for a quick shower. She was thankful for the fox for letting her stay and having the means to accommodate her. Gazelle couldn't fathom what this moment would be like without him.

She felt sick enough to her stomach with the various spats of blood caking her once beautiful red dress, so a change to blue would be a little calming to her nerves. _Not that it matters much,_ she said to herself, ears falling and hooves twitching as they brushed against her new clothes. _I'll be wearing orange starting tomorrow for the rest of my life._

Grabbing everything she needed, she carefully meandered her way around the lights and hoofed her way up the stairs, mindful of the ceiling and taking note to remember the step down when she came back in.

Hearing the door creak shut while staying unlocked for her, Finnick swiftly went to work. He needed a distraction to get Gazelle up and out of the room for a moment while he made his next move. Not even taking the time to think of the number as his muscle memory knew it, he hit the talk button on his cell phone.

 _He ain't gonna like this._ he thought, hearing the phone ring once... twice and three times before a grumble was heard on the line.

"Shut it, NICK!" was the first thing out of his mouth as he knew... he _knew_ that, despite the other fox's shift from hustles to patrols, Nick was _still_ annoying to some degree. He'd pester him about his height and age as he looked like a child. Oftentimes, he wanted to simply strangle Nick, even when that bunny partner of his (Judy) was around.

When he heard nothing on the line but a sharp yawn, he continued. "I got a-" _This is Nick..._ he reminded himself, _I can't risk Zel being caught up an' havin' the police here._ "A tip..."

What he heard next somewhat startled him, but didn't surprise him. A sharp, fake breath taken in by the fox; it meant only that he was going to tease him. "They allowed you to valet park someone else's car?" Nick said in faux elation. Fin could see the smug grin plastered on the renards muzzle. "Good for you, big guy. Gotta earn that diaper."

Just before the hyena like cackling could begin, he grumbled. "It's..." Images of nearly every mammal he knew passed through his mind. And only a pawful of them seemed able to aid his stand in the situation. "It's Neil, again."

There was a pause, dead silence on the line; the fennec fox smirked. "Oh?" whispered a voice, concerned as it lost all hint of playfulness.

"Yeah," Fin acknowledged. "Said he saw a body on Thorn."

There was a rustle, the sound of toes clicking against hardwood flooring. "A tip, huh? Alright, I'll call it in as anonymous. Is he okay?"

It was at times like this that Fin was grateful for a few things. One, that Nick could be serious, and two, that he knew everybody.

"Shook up."

A mumble of agreement was all the confirmation he needed. Then, another yawn, "Well, I gotta go. Carrots and I have an early shift in a few hours." _At least the bunny can set you straight, Slic-_ "Don't stay up too late past your bedtime, bud."

Annoyed, Finnick abruptly hung up. He didn't need to hear more snark.

Noticing time on his screen flashed a chilling 1 AM, the fox scratched his ears sleepily. _Yeah, callin' in sick. Can't miss too many days, though._

He placed his phone back on the table and marched his way to the dresser. Opening the bottom drawer, he hopped in and quickly changed his clothes. He didn't have much in the line of bed wear - one outfit in fact - and the chilling air wasn't something that he liked, especially for his ears.

So ambling into the grey elephant costume, Finnick pulled the hoodie's ear covers over his own and felt slightly warmer. A contented and tired yawn escaped him. He scratched a little itch on his shoulder.

 _Take the day off, take her back home and check on that perp,_ he listed off mentally, balling his paw at the guy that attempted to assault his friend. In a matter of a second flat, he looked over to the abandoned acoustic guitar that Gazelle used to protect herself as well as nearly kill him.

The sheen and shimmer of its wooden surface was tainted with dried spots of blood and held cracks where it was once flawless. A single string had popped and it looked a little bent, but still in somewhat working condition.

 _You really did a number on that guy, huh Zel?_ he mused under a whistle. While he knew she was obviously talented - all of Zootopia knew - to be able to defend herself with such an instrument was awkward. _Aint no such thing as a fair fight._

Curiously gazing over it, his massive ears flickered to a faint sound. The creak of his door slowly filled the room, alerting him to the stairwell. It shut far quicker than it was opened and then the click of locks, uneven steps, muttered words, and gentle taps of hooves all echoed at once.

Taking a quick whiff of the air, he could smell the familiar scent of one of the shampoo's he usually used. A smile appeared on his muzzle.

When he saw Gazelle - blue sweatpants, and grey shirt that hugged her form - he _froze._ Her graceful form was untainted by the crude smelling blood and tattered clothing she previously wore. Those garments hung loosely, cautiously from her hooves as she looked around silently. Her dazzling amber gold eyes stared fearfully at his.

"Fin," she said softly. "w-what should I do with-"

Gesturing towards the ruined dress and cringing, Gazelle stifled a little gag. She recalled the hot shower she just took, feeling the sickening sting of blood as it washed away under the scalding water. It wasn't too bad, though, the refreshing feeling that came with the shower helped relax her as well as Finnick's odd 'cocoanut aloe vera' soap.

Though she still felt miserable inside, having a little more of a clear head helped her nerves.

The fox shook his head. "There's a... uh," looking around for something to distract him from her directly, he thought of what he could say. There were no trash bags her size to fit the old clothes in, he didn't have much in the way of useable materials to wrap it in. But then again, there was-

"I got a jar or two by the tv," he said, thumbing towards it and remembering his hustling days. "Just stuff it in there til' mornin'."

Nodding and shuffling forward, Gazelle found the jars he was talking about. Nearly his size, and with simple lids, she unscrewed one and started to put the ruined dress in. However... the moment she started, her lip quivered and her eyes began to gloss.

Guilt instantly gripped her. "Fin," she asked quietly; hooves tapping against the glass, desperate for an answer. "W-what do you think will h-happen when-"

The fox grit his teeth, he wouldn't stand for her to be upset like this. "Zel, listen," he knew full well that was one of her weakest points: _actually listening._ Still, her ears swiveled between her broken sobs. "What you did was in self-defense. We'll sort this stuff out in the morning and..." he rubbed the nape of his neck under the elephant suit. _I can't let her know I called in a tip._ "I'm sure it's alright. The police patrol that place at night,"

It was her turn to completely freeze. _Police?!_ If they found _any_ evidence that she was behind the attack, would they barge in and arrest her on the spot? _What would they do to Fin?!_

In all of this, she went to press the question further, but Finnick beat her to an answer. "So just trust me. Since you were attacked, they'd understand," he said confidently, though inwardly he could only hope he was right.

Seeing her relax a little, he yawned stiffly. "So just take the couch, and sleep it off."

Turning around to the couch and seeing the single cushion and spread sheet, Gazelle shoved the rest of the dress into the jar and weakly walked over. Careful of not hitting her horns on the dangling lights, she sat down and huffed before finally laying her head on the pillow. She felt tired both mentally and physically when she wrapped the blanket around her.

Slowly, her breaths evened and she recalled the one mammal that would ever help her like this. "Goodnight, Fin..." she said, nearly a whisper as she did so. "Thank you."

She didn't know how quickly he fell asleep, but she didn't get a response. The swirl of thoughts that mixed and mingled in her mind slowly parted way to the welcoming darkness of sleep.

Yet while she drifted off, Finnick stared up at the dim lights and thought, _No problem, Zel... just glad you're here._ And just like that, he closed his eyes and a dreamless rest overtook him.

* * *

Heya, welcome to the **A/N** section

 **[Translations]  
**  
Because we're growing in language, we're gonna be doing just this ^_^

"No te lo permitiré!" **[Spanish/English]** "I won't let you!"

"Pequeño," **[Spanish/English]** "Little one,"

"Ah! Que! No llego tarde al ensayo!" **[Spanish/English]** "Ah! What! I'm not late for rehearsal!"

 _Quien construye escaleras detras de una puerta?_ **[Spanish/English]** _Who builds stairs behind a door?_

"Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas avec toi?" **[French/English]** "What is wrong with you?!"

 _Quand je trouverai le gars qui a fait ça, je-_ **[French/English]** _When I find the guy that did this I-_

Le travail n'est jamais fini.

 **[French/English]** _Work ain't never done._

We have a bit to say before you leave.

 **Dancing Lunar Wolves:**

Hey all, DLW here ^^ I hope you're enjoying the story cause Hawner and Reader have me locked away in a basement tower while Senestran guards it! Send. HELP! Also send nachoes! I'm pretty hungry... *writes away*

 **Hawner:**

As Hawner didn't know what to say, go give him a visit and a hug ^_^  
-DLW

 **Senestran:**

I hope this little cliffhanger make you all eat your fingernails and a few phalanges too :-p  
Let's savor this new part of our funny story and like Fin would say : "Amusez-vous bande de naze, ou je vous arrache la tête!"

 **ReaderNo31142:**

Well, it's about time :P

 **[Updates]**

If you'd like to see more of what's going on for "La Guitarrista", please look on my DA page under journals as 'Snippets' of future content and chapters will appear ever so often.

 **[Other Sites]**

And I hope you get a chance to read this and our other stories as well. We can be found at these sites:

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u/3825612/dancinglunarwolves

u/1883020/Hawner

u/8039884/senestran

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Let the music flow!  
 **-DLW**


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